


You Kick Like A Mule

by LonelyThursday



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Modern Era, Sleeping Together, blanket burritos, past Race/Spot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 10:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21444811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyThursday/pseuds/LonelyThursday
Summary: Race sleeps over at Albert's for the first time, and they both learn something about Race's sleeping habits.feat. boyfriend burritos, morning person Elmer, and not a morning person Spot ConlonRalbert fluff with some background Spelmer
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon/Elmer (Newsies)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51





	You Kick Like A Mule

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of sleeping, but I did wait to post it until morning

Race stares at the bright computer screen. The words are starting to blend together, and a headache throbs behind his eyes, but he has to turn in this essay before his professor wakes up in the morning, and he still has two more pages to write. 

Race throws his head back with a groan. This sucks. This just sucks. 

“Hey,” Albert whispers from the other side of the room. They’re hanging out in Albert’s apartment, they were _supposed_ to watch a movie once Race finished his essay, but the writing has taken longer than Race thought it would; it’s nearly midnight and there’s no way they’re going to be able to watch a movie tonight. “Do you want to spend the night?”

Race finally peels his eyes away from the laptop screen to search for his boyfriend in the dark room. He can just barely make out his boyfriends’ face, which is dimly illuminated by his phone screen. 

“I don’t want to bother you,” Race says, stifling a yawn. “I should just head home, finish this there.”

“If you head home now you’ll just lose like half an hour that you could be using to work on your essay,” Albert points out. “Plus, if you spend the night here then I can see you first thing in the morning. Sounds like a win-win to me.”

“You just want to cuddle,” Race accuses, though cuddling does sound nice. They’ve cuddled before, but they’ve never spent the night together. 

“Problem?” Albert teases, moving to sit next to Race on the couch. 

“You’re sure you want me to stay?” Race asks one more time, just to be sure, he doesn’t want to impose. 

Albert nods, and Race relaxes a little. Not having to make his way all the way back to his apartment tonight actually does take a load off his mind. 

“Alright, I’m going to bed.” Albert tells him, kissing him on the cheek. “Join me when you’re done?”

“It’s going to be a while,” Race says hesitantly. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch, I don’t want to wake you.”

“I don’t mind if you wake me,” Albert answers, standing from the couch and stretching his arms over his head. “Now get back to work on your paper then we can - *yawn* - cuddle when you’re done.”

“Will do. Night, Albie.”

“G’night, Tones.” Once Albert is out of the room, Race focuses once more on his essay. 

_‘Damn, writing’s hard.’_

Race submits his essay at just before three a.m., and finds himself slipping into Albert’s room at just _after_ three. Albert’s already asleep, sleeping slightly curled and his side facing away from the door. Race shucks off his jeans and hoodie, but leaves on his t-shirt and boxers, then slips in the bed behind Albert, spooning up behind him. 

“Hmm? Wha-?” Albert groans, stirring from the movement. 

“Shh, Al, it’s just me,” Race whispers pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Albert’s neck. 

“Ra’e,“ Albert turns over tangling his legs with Race’s, and shoving his head under Race’s chin before instantly falling back asleep. 

Race chuckles quietly, curling around Albert even more, and pulling the comforter up until it reaches Albert’s chin; then follows his boyfriend into slumber. 

Race wakes up way too early in the morning, freezing. 

He’s alone in Albert’s bed, and the comforter is completely gone. Race shivers then leans over the edge of the bed to look for his hoodie, wondering why Albert took the comforter with him when he left. 

Race doesn’t find his hoodie, but he _does_ find both his boyfriend _and_ the comforter. 

Albert is asleep on the floor by the foot of the bed, wrapped up in the comforter like a burrito. 

_‘A boyfriend burrito,’ _Race thinks with a giggle. Though the _real_ question is why did Albert sleep on the floor. And the only way to get the answer to that is to wake him. 

“Albie.” Race nudges him slightly with his foot, but Albert doesn’t stir. _“Psst, _Al.”

“Hrrrn.” This time, Albert stirs but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Wha-?”

“Why are you sleeping on the floor?” Race asks, he’s still whispering, but at this point, he’s not sure why, it’s not like he’s trying not to wake someone. 

“You kicked me out of bed,” Albert groans, still refusing to open his eyes. 

“No I didn’t,” Race insists. “You must have dreamt that.”

“No, Race.” Albert finally open his eyes. “You _literally _kicked me off of the bed. You kick in your sleep. Violently.”

“I do _not!” _Race gasps, offended that Albert would even _suggest_ that he kicks in his sleep. “You must have dreamt it.”

“No I didn’t,” Albert replies simply, leaving no room for argument. “You kick in your sleep.”

“No I _don’t!” _Race insists again, louder. “I’m calling Spot,” Race finally spots his hoodie on the floor and pulls his phone out. “He’ll tell you.”

“Goodie, we’re calling your ex,” Albert mutters sarcastically under his breath. 

Race chooses to ignore the comment as he scrolls through his contacts, finally landing on Spot’s name. He hits the call button and brings the phone up to his ear, but to his surprise, he can hear Spot’s ringtone through the walls. 

“Is Spot here?” He whispers. Albert nods in his cocoon. 

“He’s in Elmer’s room, they got here last night while you were deep in the paper writing zone.”

“Huh.” The ringing stops, and a second later Spot’s groggy voice comes clearly through the phone speakers, and faintly through the wall. 

_“The fuck do you want?” _Spot groans, having clearly been woken up by Race’s call. 

“Do I kick in my sleep?” Race asks without preamble. 

_“Yes.” _Spot hangs up, but Race isn’t done with this conversation. 

“I do _not!”_ He yells loudly enough to be heard in the next room. He hears a loud groan in response, and a minute later, Albert’s door opens to reveal one very tired looking Spot Conlon, wrapped up in Elmer’s comforter like a cloak. 

“Yes you do,” he answers, looking not at all fazed to find Albert on the floor while Race is still on the bed. “When we were dating, you left bruises all over my legs.”

“I thought those were from soccer!” Race gasps, he’s _sure_ that Spot never said anything. 

“I had bruises on my _shins, _Race, I thought that made it pretty obvious.”

“How was I supposed to know!?” Race demands. “I thought those were from soccer too!”

“I wear shin-guards for soccer. Seriously Race? You didn’t realize you kick in your sleep? It’s pretty violent.”

“That’s what I said!” Albert piped up from the floor. Race just gapes are both of them in shock. 

“Morning Albert! Morning Race!” Elmer comes in, fully dressed and looking way too awake and perky for the morning. He kisses Spot on the cheek, and Spot in turn looks a little less annoyed about life. “Anyone want waffles?”

“Yes please,” Albert mumbles, making no move to get up from his comforter cocoon. 

“Always, babe,” Spot answers. 

“How was I supposed to know I kick in my sleep!?” Race demands again. 

“Really? You didn’t know?” Elmer asks. “But you kick so violently!”

“GAH!” Race throws his arms up. 

“‘Kay, well I’m just gonna assume you all want waffles, so I’m gonna go make some.” Elmer leaves Albert’s room. 

“I’ll help,” Spot and his comforter cloak follow after him. 

“Thanks, El!” Albert calls. 

Race sighs. “I’m sorry I kicked you out of bed, Al. I didn’t know that I kicked.”

“‘S okay, Race,” Albert answers. “You can always make it up to me.”

“You want to cuddle until the waffles are done?” Race asks, grinning. 

“Mhmm, always.”

“Are you going to get on the bed?” Race asks when Albert makes no move to get up, or even untangle himself. 

“Nope,” Albert replies simply. “Cuddle me here.”

Race sighs, but he’s smiling as he eases himself onto the floor and pulls his boyfriend burrito against him. “Love you, Albie.”

“Love you too, Tones.” Albert hums, content. “But you kick like a mule.”

“Hey!”

**Author's Note:**

> I legit had a professor that would be like "this assignment is due at 11:59, but as long as your turn it in before I wake up in the morning then I won't count it as late"


End file.
